


In Spite of a Nail

by dfriendly



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 01, Alternate Universe - Canon, Dubious Consent, F/M, Grant Ward Isn't Hydra, Hydra Jemma Simmons, I'm not a Ward apologist but that's why this is an AU, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:19:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6707662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dfriendly/pseuds/dfriendly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons owed Hydra everything. All they asked for in return was her allegiance — and that was easily given. She would, of course, have to have the proper skills to infiltrate SHIELD and and maintain her cover. But she had been groomed as a Hydra agent since a child —and a precocious child at that— so it wasn't a problem. </p><p>A "What If?" AU of Season 1 where Jemma is evil but Ward is loyal to SHIELD (without ever having Garrett as an SO or being evil himself).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for dub-con, since Ward doesn't know that Jemma's Hydra.
> 
> This prologue is mainly exposition, sorry.

You couldn't be a seven year-old genius without attracting some attention. 

Jemma Simmons' mother and father were decent parents, if not rather perplexed as to what to do with their exceptionally intelligent daughter. Even if they could have kept up with their precocious daughter's intellect, they didn't have the money or connections to send her to the schools that she deserved to go to. They applied for scholarships, but Jemma was seen as a peculiarity and not the right fit for programs aimed at teenagers. Wouldn't she rather be around peers her own age? (And be forced to suffer through the teaching of multiplication tables while she was tackling calculus? Certainly not.) 

Then Hydra found her. They were always on the lookout for bright young minds and eager to make sure those minds got the best possible education to cultivate them to their full potential. Money was no object, either, to the great relief of her parents. 

Jemma Simmons owed Hydra everything. All they asked for in return was her allegiance — and that was easily given. 

Hydra had her attend the SHIELD academy. It would provide her with an extraordinary education, after all. It would also place her in a strategic position. She had the credentials to have her pick of assignments within SHIELD, to go wherever Hydra might need her. To be in a situation where she could utilize both Hydra's and SHIELD's resources, Jemma could accomplish near anything she wanted. 

She would, of course, have to have the proper skills to infiltrate SHIELD and and maintain her cover. But she had been groomed as a Hydra agent since a child — and a precocious child at that— so it wasn't a problem. 

Jemma just had be the most unassuming, innocent, _endearingly sweet_ person she could manage. No one thought she was capable of harming a fly —well maybe a fetal pig or lab rat, but only after thanking it for its sacrifice in the name of science. So there was no way that anyone suspected her of being a double agent. She had studied human behavior and psychology, and became quite skilled in pinpointing a person's weakness or the best way to maneuver them to her will. Jemma might not have been the _best_ at duplicity, but so long as she pretended to be an atrocious liar when it didn't matter, her actual lies went undetected. She also wasn't very skilled in combat, but that hardly mattered when she could just shoot her unsuspecting target in the back, if it really came down to it —which it so rarely did. Most of the time she relied on her intellect to avoid those sort of predicaments. Being a genius had its advantages. 

lll 

Jemma had thought of turning Fitz long ago, but he wouldn't be much better at duplicity than Jemma's cover supposedly was. She didn't need to, though. Fitz was her best friend and did _whatever_ she wanted him to. It didn't hurt that he was a little in love with her. She'd considered pursing a relationship with him to cement his loyalty, but he was already so steadfast to her she hardly needed any more from him. She could always revisit that idea at a later date. Fitz was _hers_. 

The others on her new team were still variables. 

Skye was street-smart, but even less aware of the pitfalls of SHIELD than Fitz. The Academies had the idea of potentiality drilled into the cadets' heads. (Simmons had tried very hard not to laugh during _the Talk_.) But Skye wasn't used to having to think that way. She hadn't been trained to always consider if people were truly who they said they were. As far as Skye knew, Jemma was her friend, a part of her new family, her _sister_. Jemma as Hydra? _That's crazy_. 

In another life, Coulson would have loved the joys of fatherhood. So instead he projected those paternal needs on the youngest three members of his team, including Jemma (even if Skye was his favorite). He was fiercely protective of her and abundantly supportive of her scientific abilities. He could also be terribly idealistic, which meant he was developing a blind spot for Jemma as one of his pseudo-children. She didn't have to worry about Coulson so long as she let him dote on her and she remained his good little girl. 

May... could prove a problem. She had Coulson's experience, yet didn't let her emotions get the better of her. She'd closed herself off after the "Calvary" incident. Jemma would try to be nice to her, bring her cookies in the cockpit in an attempt to be friendly and inclusive. But she couldn't try too hard without running the risk of making May suspicious. Jemma might just have to be careful with that one. (Too bad May didn't show any signs of attraction to her.) 

Then there was Ward. He was a SHIELD agent, through and through. He may not be quite as impenetrable as May, but he would be harder to win over than the others. He didn't trust people easily and was skilled at figuring out people's motives. She'd have to try a different approach with him. 

She knew Ward liked her, but they weren't close. He found her attractive, without being attracted _to_ her. And he might not be suspicious of her (yet), but he didn't take much interest in her at all, either. Then there was the small issue of him forming an attachment with Skye while simultaneously becoming her SO. No matter. Jemma knew how to seduce a target. The trick was doing it without betraying her sweet, innocent persona — the trick and the _fun_. He'd have to _fall_ for her. 

And then? She'd have a specialist in her pocket. Having someone so skilled in combat would certainly be of use if she got into trouble. She'd make sure he would be willing to risk anything to protect her. If something called her loyalty into question, he would protect her from SHIELD. Because even though he was loyal to his agency, he wasn't devoted to them. They took him out of juvie when he was a kid after he'd tried to protect himself and his younger brother. There lay his true devotion, the only thing he really cared about: his baby brother. Who knew straight-laced Agent Ward was actually just a big softie? 

Seducing him would be even easier than she thought. Jemma might even be able to turn him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first fic I've published in literally. years. (Not counting mini-fics on tumblr or that one spur-of-the-moment fic here on AO3 last year.) (I used to write a lot on livejournal back in the day.) It feels really good!


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FZZT — The Hub — The Well

Fate —if Jemma believed in that sort of thing— had given her the exact opportunity she needed. 

She was infected with a Chitauri virus, which... okay that might have been rather bad luck. Jemma thought she was done for. So she jumped, wanting to spare the intel onboard the Bus (including Coulson's revived body) for Hydra to retrieve another day. 

And then, like her very own superhero, Grant Ward saved her. It was perfect. 

Jemma knew she had him hooked the moment she woke up in the water, one arm looped over a floatation device. She could feel him gently brushing the wet hair out of her face. "You're fine. Everything's okay," he said, his voice gentler than she'd ever heard it. 

Before he could resume his stoic demeanor, she pulled herself tightly into his arms. "Thank you," she whispered against his neck. "You saved me." 

It gave Jemma a reason to develop a crush on him for more than just being attractive. Ward would be used to people finding him attractive. What he wanted —though he probably didn't realize it— was for someone to see him as a hero. As an agent, he might be brave, risk his life, and take down bad guys for the good of the many. But Jemma knew being a SHIELD agent didn't always make him feel like a good person. Sometimes it required being the opposite. What he just did, jumping out of a plane after someone about to emit a potentially-deadly electrostatic pulse? That's what a hero does. 

She would adore him as his rescued damsel, and he would feel like the White Knight. Men could be so susceptible to the fantasy of being a hero. 

lll 

Jemma found Ward in is bunk, packing up his gear for South Ossetia just like Fitz. She stepped inside and slid the door shut behind her. 

Ward turned around, a little surprised to see her there.... actually not that surprised. He let her speak first. 

"You'll take care of him, won't you?" Jemma trembled a little, letting her voice pitch upwards. "Fitz, he... you know I think the world of him and he's my best friend..."  _Just my friend and I could never see him as anything more_. "But he's just not — he's not cut out for this sort of thing."  _He's not as much of a man, not brave or strong._  "He's not you." _You, who so bravely saved my life._

Ward put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and looked her resolutely in the eyes. "I'm gonna make sure he comes back." His voice was unusually soft again. "I promise." 

Jemma put on an anxious smile and rested one hand on top of his. "I know you will." Then she reached up onto her toes, kissing him on the curve of his jaw. "Good luck, Agent Ward." 

He looked rather awestruck when she left. 

lll

Fate gave Jemma another gift, even if it didn't feel quite so heaven-sent as Ward flying through the sky to save her. 

She'd been making good progress with him, as could be seen in just the evidence from that morning. The way he'd hovered around her in the forest trying to help, how he'd encouraged her to face her fears...  _I'll catch you if you fall_... It had been an unnecessary reassurance, considering she had a harness and two people belaying her. Jemma had even considered slipping just so he could catch her before the belayers did. (Ward was tall enough that he just might.) But, no, this was about him helping her gain confidence and become a stronger person, a better agent. Instead, when she was done she swung her leg over the side of the trunk and scooted off. The belayers lowered her into Ward's waiting arms. (Once again, unnecessary on his part.) Her body slid down his and he was hardly able to mask the arousal in his eyes... or maybe he hadn't fully intended to.  

Yes, it was slow-going — as it probably had to be. The challenge would be upgrading their relationship from budding friendship and cautious flirting to something more tangible. 

The after-effects of the Berserker staff did the trick. 

Jemma was giving him another full work-up, since technically the first one was never completed. Agent May had declined a physical exam, although she hadn't seemed as affected. Jemma would only insist if she found something wrong with Ward's. Of course, Jemma was glad to have him to herself while everyone else was off the Bus sampling the Dublin nightlife. 

"Sorry I snapped at you earlier," he said quietly. He sat on the same stool as earlier, while she worked about him. "I know you were just trying to help." 

"That's alright. You weren't yourself."

"I don't know." Ward was still shaking from taking up two of the Berserker pieces in the church . "I felt like myself. Just angry. Very... very angry."

Jemma set down her tablet. Then on second thought, she took off her gloves — even though the exam wasn't exactly over. Skin-on-skin contact would be more advantageous for what she had planned. "It was just a chemical reaction in your body."

"Technically aren't most things in your body chemical reactions? Like being a chemically unbalanced psychopath?"

"Well yes, everything is chemistry. Even good things, like love and sex and—" Jemma pretended to just realize what she'd said and blushed. "What I mean was that it was something that was introduced to your body. It wasn't something that was already there."

"It sure felt like something that was already there." Hopefully it still was, if it —if  _he_ — could be of use to Jemma later. "And that scares me." He looked up at her, seeking her reassurance. 

She gave it to him. "You're not a bad person, Ward." If he needed her to be that woman-behind-the-man, whispering words of encouragement, she would be it. Jemma placed one hand on his bare shoulder. 

"You don't know what I've done, Simmons." He was getting worked up again. If she hadn't switched off her tablet's alerts it would have started beeping at her as his heartbeat increased. "I was a messed up kid. I let my older brother push me into beating up my younger brother." His voice was gaining an edge. "And then I snapped and tried to burn the house down with him and my sorry excuse for parents in it." 

She tried to look surprised by his confession (as if she hadn't read his file) but not judgmental. "You're not that kid anymore."

"I could've been. I could've turned out a lot different. Maybe I'm not that far off." With any luck, he wasn't. She could use someone who'd burn down all her enemies to protect her. "There's something dark inside me." 

Jemma put her other hand on his shoulder to match, staring him hard in the face. "Ward, I need you to look at me." He did, which seemed to ground him a little. "Now take a deep breath, like me." She breathed in and slowly back out. "That's very good, Grant." He followed her lead for several breaths. It calmed him down, certainly. It also kept him looking straight into her eyes. Eye contact was also advantageous. "Listen to me. That darkness inside you? What's important is that you didn't let it win out. You're a good man." 

His breath sputtered, sliding back into his rage. "Yeah, now I kill people for SHIELD." Just a bit of resentment for SHIELD, that's good. 

"Ward," she soothed. She brought one hand up to cup his cheek. "You've saved lots of people, too. You saved me, remember?" 

The hand on his cheek, the reminder of him saving her: the combination was the winning strategy. Ward searched her eyes, melting into her. She had him at his most vulnerable. He _needed_ her. 

She smiled, and then pretended to be a just a fraction embarrassed. She felt herself flush, too, which certainly helped her objective, but wasn't entirely an act. Ward _was_ rather physically attractive, so her arousal was one thing she didn't have to fake. 

Her other hand gingerly moved from his shoulder to rest on his sternum. She could feel the pounding under her palm, as it slowed from its erratic rhythm to something steadier but no less intense. "I know you have a good heart," she whispered. 

Jemma had to keep from smiling, because _honestly_ , she was laying it on a bit thick. It was sickly sweet, even for someone as doe-eyed as her cover, and certainly for someone as emotionally stunted as Ward. Or maybe that's exactly why it was working for him, because he was lapping it up. The Berserker staff definitely had a part in this. Ward was running off emotions right now, a rare thing for him. One of her biggest obstacles was Ward's by-the-books conformist nature vis-à-vis the fraternization rules, but he wasn't thinking about those right now. He was hardly  _thinking_ at all. 

Ward's eyes slipped down to her mouth. He glanced back to her eyes again, and upon finding that she had swayed a fraction toward him instead of shying away, he steeled himself to stretch up and meet her lips. 

He kissed her, insistent and needy. Jemma's body responded to him without her conscious direction, her hand on his chest spasming and sliding up to grasp at the back of his neck. Ward's breathing was still ragged against her, and this wasn't doing anything to help that. He didn't seem to notice when she plucked off the electrodes. He just pulled her roughly against him, wanting to close the distance between their bodies. It was only once he bit down ferociously on her lip, making her whine in a way that could be construed as genuine pain, that he seemed to fully realize what he was doing. 

He jerked away from her. "I —" he said, his voice was rough and caught on the word, unable to apologize or explain himself. 

So Jemma spared him. She pressed her mouth firmly against his, threading her fingers through his hair and making him sigh into her. _It's okay_ , she communicated to him, because words might break the spell she and the Berserker staff had on him.  _I want this_.  

She ended up naked, on the edge of the lab bench, knees hitched up around Ward's waist as his hands groped desperately over her body. The frenzy inside of him grew as he drove into her. Jemma wanted to know what he was capable of while still under the power of the Berserker staff, but she knew she shouldn't because it wasn't what he would want. She got his attention with a hand to his chest. Ward stopped and closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. 

She kissed him again so he would open his eyes to look at her. Jemma guided his hips forward with her hand at the small of his back and kept a lock on his eyes. Together they found the right pace: slow, but rough, keeping him on the edge of his fervor without tipping him over. And when he was in danger of losing it, he would find her eyes again. 

Jemma bit her lip as the pressure inside her built. Her orgasm was within reach, but instead of seeking it out she would have to wait for it to meet her, as tortuous as that might be. She could only dig her nails further into his skin and moan and whimper. Ward's thumb dragged over her bottom lip and dipped into her mouth, over her teeth and tongue, his eyes ever fixed on hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is all outlined out and I'm about 75% finished writing it, so I'm hoping I can update it fairly quickly.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Repairs — The Bridge — The Magical Place

Things between them were understandably strange after sleeping together. Ward felt guilty, of course. And embarrassed. And awkward. They'd hardly spoken to each other since. Jemma wasn't worried. It was a natural progression for what she had planned. If it was too perfect, too seamless, he might grow suspicious.

Ward didn't mind Coulson pairing them up to assess the plane's damage after crash-landing. In fact, Ward seemed relieved to be able to look out for her while a non-corporeal inter-dimensional being was terrorizing the team. Hopefully it would take them a good long while to find Fitz. 

Unfortunately, they found him in no time at all and Ward left them to fix the wiring. But when the "ghost" grabbed Jemma from behind and she screamed, Ward came running, terrified. Only to be knocked out from behind. 

He woke up in her lap. Jemma didn't say anything at first, to not alert Fitz as he paced the small patch of floor the closet they were locked in allowed him. Ward opened his eyes and just looked up at her, his expression soft. For a moment he didn't seem to quite remember what was going on or how he got to be in her lap, but that didn't alarm him. Jemma just smiled a little and kept tracing small soothing lines on his face with her fingertips. He kept her gaze for a while longer, before snapping back to reality. There was an angry spirit with a worryingly large wrench to deal with. 

After the rest of the team's little excursion to an abandoned barn (why was there always an abandoned barn?), Fitz and Jemma met them in the cargo bay. 

"The Bus's up and running and ready for take off," Fitz chirped. 

"Great," Coulson said, brushing past them. "Let's get out of here." 

May nodded and headed straight to the cockpit. Skye took Hannah up to the quarters, with Fitz on their heels, babbling on about them all getting some well-deserved shuteye. 

Jemma's eyes lingered on Ward's. She wet her lips, both of them conscious of their team climbing up the stairs, Fitz's voice echoing after him. Ward closed the cargo door, watching her as she went upstairs and glanced meaningfully back at him. 

She sat on her bed, listening to Skye as she tucked in Hannah, had a conversation with Coulson, and then entered the cockpit to bond with May. Coulson shut his door and not a minute later, there came a tapping from Jemma's panel, so quiet she imagined he must have used the tip of his finger. 

She slid it open. Ward stepped inside and closed the door behind him. It left hardly any space between them.

"Hi," he said, a little shyly. It was cute. He didn't seem to know what to say next. She thought he might intend to 'have a talk about this'. But Ward was too socially inept to actually know how to start. 

So Jemma balanced her hands on his chest and stretched up to press a kiss to his lips. Ward's natural reaction was to steady her with his hands on her waist. After only a few seconds, any attempt to have a conversation seemed to have left him. Ward had always been more of a doer than a talker anyway. 

Her hands slipped up, over his shoulders, around his neck, into his hair. Ward shivered, but his own hands didn't budge; he didn't push or deepen the kiss. 

It was sweet, innocent...  

Jemma could almost laugh. 

Grant Ward, the jaded, standoffish specialist, who nobody thought had a heart, secretly wanted something... _pure_. 

They had to be perfectly quiet, which added some level of fun to it. The walls of their quarters were all thin, but luckily the constant hum of the engines would provide some cover. Just the wet noise of their slow, careful kissing alone sounded unnaturally loud in the relative silence. And when they stopped that, as Jemma pulled away to work on undressing them both and moving to the bed, all she could hear was their ragged breathing. 

They went slow... so agonizingly, frustratingly _slow_. Jemma had to keep herself from screaming or ordering for more, _now_. Not to say that it wasn't _good_ , so long as she kept giving him little whispered bits of encouragement and approval. His mouth and hands were soft and unintentionally teasing as they slid over her skin. 

"Ward, _please_ ," she finally whimpered, writhing against him as he feathered kisses over her breasts, his fingers skimming under the elastic band of her knickers but never venturing further. She felt him smile against her sternum. Okay, maybe some of his teasing was intentional. To be fair, her knickers were notably damp when he _finally_ dragged them down her legs. 

He didn't leave after, even though the beds were so small and he was so big that he hardly fit by himself. But she intertwined herself with him so that he couldn't easily leave if he wanted to. (And Jemma knew he didn't want to, even if he thought he should.) He slept soundly and peacefully in her arms.  

From then on it was different. 

The next night Skye wrangled everyone she could into a game of Word Up — save for May, who was piloting, and Fitz who had gone to bed grumbling adorably about all the time-zone hopping interfering with his sleep schedule. Ward was comfortable sitting next to Jemma, if not a little wary of interacting with her in front of Coulson and Skye. Although he still took his chance to tease Jemma about the obscure words she played.

" _Veinal_ ," Ward read aloud with raised eyebrows. 

"As in, relating to the veins," Jemma answered, securing the last tile on the board. 

"I figured. It's just... you know." He smiled, but not too wide to be obvious he was flirting with her. " _Veinal_... You're a doctor..."  

"I only have PhDs, not an MD, thank you. And _I'm_ not the one who used ' _espionage'_." 

Ward put up his hands defensively. "Skye did that, not me."

"It was a _good. play_." Skye repeated for the fourth time that night. "And how could I _not_?"

"I'm _also_ not the one who tried to sneak in an Arabic word," Jemma teased, keeping her lips pinched so Ward would think she was containing a smile from the others. 

"'Amigo' is allowed, but not 'sadiqi,'" Ward said.  "The Scrabble Dictionary is unfair. And technically we're not even playing Scrabble."  

They'd begun to see that his competitiveness extended to word games. Only Jemma was competitive, too. Their sniping and teasing didn't stop there once she played 'aglet.' But they were disrupted by Fitz walking in with a face full of shaving cream. 

Ward laughed openly, glancing at Jemma to watch her laugh, too. 

lll

For someone who had likely never had a real romantic relationship, Ward fell into their ... " _thing_ " rather easily. Of course, Jemma had designed it that way. Ward was love-starved, and as resistant as he could have been to pursuing something with her, the fact was, he wanted it too bad to put up a good fight. He might have been worried about breaking her heart. (It never occurred to him that she could break his.) But Ward, for all his secret desires to be the noble hero, still couldn't help his own selfishness. He had no real reservations about _her_. She was smart and cute and funny and brave. The sex was great. But most important was how being with her made him _feel_. So the affair continued, with rather spectacular success.

The only problem —for both of them— was with SHIELD protocol. 

"Do you think we need to start telling the team?" Jemma asked him one day. 

She knew it might be an unnecessary question. Hydra and Centipede were closing in on Coulson, but knowing their team's luck Jemma should have contingency plans for all outcomes. This included staying on the Bus and continuing to cultivate her relationship. 

Ward winced. "Some of the team already know." 

"Who? Certainly not Fitz. You wouldn't have told him, would you have?" Jemma knew they were becoming friends, but surely they weren't _that_  close yet. 

"No, _I_  would not be the one to tell Fitz."

"Then who did you tell?" 

"Technically I didn't tell anyone. But May figured it out. Just this morning."

"How?" 

"We were sparring in the cargo bay. And I kept looking over to you in the lab, without realizing she would notice. She called me out on it." 

"Here I thought that _I_  would be the one to give us away," she chided jokingly. The real joke was on Ward. Jemma had walked a careful line so that no one truly suspected they were sleeping together before she wanted them to, but to Ward it had seemed comically obvious. "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of master of espionage?"  

"Yeah, but... I wasn't .... _on_. I didn't have that flip switched in my brain; I was just being myself. And myself... likes to look at you." He seemed a little embarrassed, but was trying to turn it into a come-on. Ward did that sometimes, reverting back to his old seduction training when he got uncomfortable revealing his real feelings. Jemma would train him out of that. (And then he would marvel at how easily he could be himself with her and fall more in love with her for it.) "Besides, May is plenty skilled at reading people as a _fellow espionage master_." 

"So she figured it out... just by you looking at me?" 

"She said she could see it all in my _smile_. That we were having sex..." He hesitated, his eyes shifting down to his left. "But that it was more than that." 

Damn, May _was_ good. "She really said all that?" Jemma made sure to blush at his admission to it being more than just sex. 

"Yeah. Then she said 'I'm happy for you, really, just don't get yourself killed' and knocked me flat on my back while I was distracted to prove her point." Ward gritted his teeth. "She also said we should tell Coulson." 

Jemma took a deep breath and sighed. "I suppose she's right. It's important that he know what's going on in his team. And it would get us in less trouble if he found out sooner rather than later." Jemma had another reason, too. Her relationship with Ward would be less suspicious if it were above the table. Their Jemma Simmons needed to remain as honest and forthcoming as possible, perfectly incapable of hiding anything or misleading the team — for longer than she already had anyway.

Later that day, Ward told her about how he'd tried to tell Coulson. They were driving around in Lola when Ward got Coulson to open up about some cellist in Portland (useful information Jemma could file away for later). Ward thought he saw the chance to come clean, until Coulson expressed his opinion on dating someone in SHIELD as  "just asking for trouble." Ward, who was fearless by even SHIELD standards, chickened out. 

lll

Those _idiots_  with Centipede could have gotten Ward killed and if they had, there would be hell to pay. Jemma did not go through all that work just for _nothing_. 

"Get in the van" May ordered to the three of them on the ground. "Ward, what's your status?"

The comms in their ears were quiet.

"Ward. Status." May turned to where Jemma and Fitz still stood frozen. (Skye, with the Peterson kid in her arms, didn't need to be told twice.) "I said get in the van."

Fitz tugged on Jemma's sleeve but she didn't budge. The helicopter wasn't making another pass. Good. Now was the perfect time to make little show for her cover.

She bolted, May shouting after her. Before Jemma could reach the tower, the door burst open. Ward was a little bloody, but upright. She didn't stop running until he reached her. 

"I'm fine," he said, shrugging off her help. "We gotta go." 

"You're not fine. You've been shot." He honestly was fine, she knew. A through-and-through to the shoulder and a minor injury to his less dominant hand? Forget being alive, a specialist like him would be hardly be taken out of the field for that. But her cover would still fret, whether over her lover or any one of her team. 

And fret she did. Once back at the Bus, Skye and Fitz took the kid upstairs. Jemma led Ward to the lab, followed by May. 

"What did you think you were doing?" May's voice was barely raised and her expression stayed relatively restrained, but it was the angriest Jemma had ever seen her. Usually May's rage would be manifested as something much colder. Jemma supposed she had Coulson's kidnapping to thank for that. 

Jemma collected her medical supplies and made to cut Ward out of his shirt, all the while avoiding looking May in the eye.  

"Simmons, I gave you a direct order and you disobeyed it."

"Agent Ward could have needed immediate medical attention," Jemma said unsteadily. 

"Or there could have been enemy agents on the ground. Or another bomb." 

Well, no, there couldn't have been, according to the encrypted mission outline Hydra sent Jemma. 

"I thought I'd have to worry about _him_  doing something stupid," May said. "I hadn't considered having to worry about you, too. Once you tell Coulson —and you _will_  tell Coulson—" 

"We were planning on it," Ward assured her quietly. 

"— I'm going to have to tell him about this, too." 

"If we get him back, you mean," Jemma whispered. Ward, who up until that point had been the embodiment of professionalism in light of Jemma's disobedience, took her hands in his when they started to shake. 

May sighed, her anger ebbing. "We'll get him back," she said evenly. 

As Jemma had been starting to realize, May was more like Coulson and his soft heart than she had first thought. May's protective instincts were less obvious than Coulson's but just as strong —somewhere between a mama bear and a big sister. Jemma couldn't believe that she hadn't seen it much sooner than she had. Luckily her miscalculation was to her advantage.   

"May's right. You shouldn't have done that," Ward said once she had left the lab. "If we're going to stay on this team together we have to follow orders." 

"What about when our orders are wrong? Like when SHIELD was going to abandon you and Fitz in South Ossetia."

"Jemma, that's not the same—" 

"Are you saying you wouldn't have done the same thing I just did?"

Ward grimaced (and not just from the pain —which had to be setting in about now, with the adrenaline wearing off). He would have, and Jemma knew that. One day she just might have to count on him disobeying orders for her. 

When they did rescue Coulson, Ward managed to rip his stitches. _Again_. Jemma supposed she shouldn't be surprised after he went toe-to-toe with a Centipede soldier. The fact that he hadn't gotten much worse damage was impressive in itself. It made Jemma wonder what Ward could accomplish if he became part of the project... No, no. She wouldn't waste an asset like Ward until she knew that Centipede had successfully worked out all the kinks in the serum —and she knew she had Ward's absolute loyalty. 

"Is it the pain medication that's making you smile so much? Now that you've finally allowed me to give it to you." 

Ward was grinning at her, apparently unphased by the needle she kept threading through his skin. 

"We got Coulson back. Everyone's safe and sound. Caught some bad guys... The rest of the team's asleep..." They'd all barely slept since Coulson had been taken. Everyone else had shuffled off to bed once the Bus was in the air. 

Color rose into Jemma's cheeks. "And we should too." 

"We will." Ward leaned in to run his nose along her jaw. "But first..." 

"You shouldn't be putting any more strain on that shoulder," she scolded, even while she angled toward him. "And once your medication fully kicks in, you'll be pretty out of it." 

Ward's eyes were half-lecherous, half-dopey. "I guess you'd have to do most of the work this time around," he teased. "Sorry." 

"You have to stop moving." She nudged him back with one hand against his chest, giggling as a swipe of his tongue tickled below her ear. 

"Yes, Doctor." Ward turned into the perfect patient, smirking silently at her while she finished. 

Jemma helped him totter upstairs to his room and sit on his bed. "Are you staying?" he whispered. Jemma looked up from where she knelt, unlacing his shoes. 

She was exhausted, too, even if she hadn't been carrying around a gunshot wound for the past several days like him. Yet when she reached for Ward's belt, her hand automatically brushed against where he was half-hard. She felt her cunt tighten, more from the low groan he made than anything else. 

Jemma pressed her mouth over his heart, open and wet, before dragging her teeth across his skin. Ward's chest rose with a hiss. He grabbed the back of her neck and guided her up to kiss him. Fumbling with their clothes, they maneuvered to lay on the bed, her on top of him. 

Both a little delirious from sleep deprivation, their efforts were a little haphazard. Ward was closing his eyes as the grip on her hips grew slacker and slacker. She wouldn't have been surprised —or _too_  insulted— if he fell asleep, considering the painkillers she gave him. Her orgasm was a small crest instead of the usual crescendo, and she suspected Ward's was similar. 

More gratifying was how it felt afterward. She eased herself down and nestled against his good side —her body warm, relaxed, and satisfied. Eyelids drooping, she listened to their breathing slow and heartbeats sync into an easy rhythm before drifting to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "sadiqi" = friend (masculine); commonly used in greetings.*  
> *(what I could gather from my admittedly non-extensive online research)  
> "Amigo" is indeed in the Scrabble dictionary, because even though it may otherwise break the 'no foreign words' rule, it's commonly used enough by English speakers to be an exception. (Even if Ward, world-traveler and skilled linguist, disagrees)


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeds — TRACKS — TAHITI

Skye kept making Scooby-Doo references. There were just the four of them, she reasoned: the four "kids." And they had a mystery to solve. She was half-convinced Agent Weaver was the culprit, based solely on the "first person they meet" rule. ("That's ridiculous," Fitz argued as he began to poke holes in her theory. "It's not like we have a dog. Now if we had a monkey...")  Her references only increased once Ward ("Freddy" she kept calling him) suggested they split up. 

First he instructed Fitz to talk to Donnie Gill. Then Skye, who blended in quite well, would use her amiability to wheedle information out of her unknowing 'peers'. Meanwhile Ward would stay with Simmons, so that her presence as a famed alumna could curb the uneasiness students and faculty might feel around someone as painfully out of place as a specialist. They would meet once classes were out, when the Boiler Room would be in full swing.

"Okay, gang!" Skye declared gleefully as she turned to leave the two of them. 

Jemma was pleasantly impressed with Ward's skills at manipulating his teammates. Skye and Fitz still didn't know. (Or Coulson for that matter, since his kidnapping had delayed opportunities to tell him.) Sure, Ward's plan worked in favor of finding their suspect, but it was rather conveniently orchestrated in their favor. She shouldn't be surprised, considering he was a top SHIELD agent. It was still nice to see it in action. 

For the next four hours she and Ward visited offices and classrooms, conducting the more official lines of questioning. They only hit dead-ends. 

"Hopefully Fitz and Skye had better luck," Ward said as they exited the Nanotechnology Building. 

"And the Boiler Room may yield more success." 

"We have forty-five minutes before we meet there," he said. Ward glanced around the emptied Academy grounds, most of the students still in class. Then he grinned and took Jemma's hand. 

They walked, now a bit aimlessly, down the path. Ward couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. His mouth would widen and soften as the thoughts passed through his head. 

"What is it?" she finally asked, when his grin had cracked particularly wide and bashful. 

"It's..." He shook his head. "It's dumb."

She grinned at him teasingly and tugged on his hand. "What is it? Tell me." 

Ward was close to blushing. "I told you, it's stupid." 

"Grant, you can tell me." 

"I just..." He sighed. "I keep thinking about how... I never had ... _this_. I was never in high school... or college. I never got to do something as normal and pedestrian as walk around a campus hand-in-hand with a girl."

Jemma smiled warmly, tucking her hair behind her ear. He was opening up to her, and it didn't even require an alien artifact. This was very good. 

"The kind of lives we lead," he continued, "we miss out on stuff, ordinary stuff, that you don't even realize you missed or ever wanted. But sometimes... when you get this glimpse of it, you realize that maybe you _did_  want it. And maybe you can still have it."

She knew he was talking about _love_. Grant Ward had once resigned himself to the life of a specialist, of being alone his whole life and living mission-to-mission. Now he saw that Jemma could give him more than that. He would never be the type to settle down into the American Dream life, with the picket fence and the 2.5 kids. But she could entertain his fantasies of the common-place experiences he missed out on. This time around: the feeling of being young and in love, without a care in the world. 

"You have it now," Jemma said quietly, with a little squeeze of his hand. "You just have to find it in the moments in between." 

Ward smiled. He looked particularly vulnerable and shy, like a besotted teenager with his first girlfriend. Jemma supposed that in many ways it was an accurate description, considering his lack of authentic romantic experience. It was what made him so wonderfully susceptible to her. After spending so much of his life with his defenses up, he felt _safe_  with her. Jemma represented all the innocuous things he never got to experience. 

They kept walking, Ward enjoying the simple, everyday pleasure of holding her hand. "Are you gonna give me the tour?"

"Don't you know your way around already, Mr Specialist?" He probably had at least ten escape routes planned . 

"I want to hear stories about the old stomping ground." 

Jemma shook her head, pretending to be embarrassed. "It was a lot of studying and running experiments! Not the sort of things that make good stories." Not to someone who wasn't more scientifically-minded, anyway. 

"I want to hear them." Ward tugged on her hand. "Please, Jemma?" 

She caved, supposedly unable to resist him, and led him around campus by the hand. That was her dorm, and there was the first lecture hall built on campus, and over there was the biophysics lab where she once caused a minor explosion, and that was her favorite tree....

She made her way, very strategically, past the Weapons Development building. "The Fragging Building," she announced. "So nicknamed during the Vietnam War, due to some anti-war sentiment and the wide-spread dislike of a particular head professor." 

"Who the students wanted ...to frag." Ward said, with a raised eyebrow. Jemma knew killing a superior would not have been considered a joking matter in the Op Academy. 

"It sounds worse than it was; I'm fairly certain no one was ever fragged. And now it's called the Frakking Building nearly as often," Jemma said with a snort. "It's a term that comes from a science-fiction show, instead of —"

"I know, I've heard Fitz say it." 

"Well there's this particular corner on the top level of the back stairwell. Like the Boiler Room, it's one of the places without adequate camera coverage. So students made it into a hook-up spot. A supposed Academy rite of passage." 

That piqued his interest. "Have you ever...?" 

Jemma blushed. "No. I think it's more something people always talk about, but rarely ever do." 

(That's not true. She knew for a fact that a rather deviant girl Fitz briefly dated took him there. Jemma wasn't going to tell Ward that.)

Ward's smile was mischievous and positively juvenile. His lapse in professionalism seemed especially funny while he was wearing his suit. "Wanna check that off the list?" 

Jemma bit her lip, as if she hadn't been planning on letting him play out some teenage fantasy all along.

They snuck up the stairwell hand-in-hand, more like misbehaving youths than spies. Ward stole kisses from her as they went, making her giggle and then having to kiss her again to stifle her. Once they reached the top, Jemma sank to her knees. 

Ward's mouth opened in anticipation, eyes growing dark, as she unbuckled his belt. He was fully erect by the time she pulled his trousers and shorts down just enough. Jemma's mouth was genuinely watering at the sight, her hands running up his thighs and circling around his base. They didn't have much time for ceremony. She slowly slid her lips over him and moaned, low and long, at the feel of his cock on her tongue. Ward made a strangled noise above her, his head knocking back against the wall. 

" _Fuck_... Jemma."

She pressed her tongue against him, sliding it back and forth as she pulled back again and sucked on the head. Ward hissed. His fingers twitched, gingerly running them through her hair, pushing it out of her way and his own view of her. She looked up through her eyelashes to find him biting his lip, eyes shining at her. His thighs were actually _trembling_. Jemma loved seeing Ward when he was vulnerable but nothing ever quite compared to how helpless he was with his cock in her mouth. Jemma could feel the noises he made all way down in her core, heat curling taut inside of her so that she clenched her knees together. It made her keep humming needily against his cock, causing his resolve to crumble a little more each time she did. 

When Ward came, he was wrecked, giving Jemma the wild notion that if she chose to kill him right then, he'd be in no state to try to stop her. 

She stood and kissed him slowly. Each press of her lips and curl of her tongue was deliberate, in a reminder of all she'd just done to his cock — as if the taste of his own cum wasn't enough. He was still shaking as he wrapped his arms around her waist, sighing against her. If it weren't for the support of the wall at his back and her body pressed to his front, he might just collapse. 

"That was..." he whispered hoarsely, unable to find the right word to adequately describe it. Jemma just smiled coyly and kept kissing him until he regained some of his composure.  

Ward pressed his hand against her jeans, cupping her between her legs and meeting her with a low grunt. No doubt he could feel the heat radiating off of her even if her jeans were too great of a barrier for either of their liking.

"Later," she gasped, tapping her finger on his watch. Ward looked at it and swore, but didn't remove his hand. Jemma ground against it, her body still desperately seeking some relief even if she knew now wasn't the time. She was trying to decide if she would want his mouth or his dick first, given their next opportunity. Then Ward bent low to tongue that spot below her ear, making up her mind for her. Definitely his mouth first. 

Jemma reflected, not for the first time, at how fortunate she was to have Ward as a mark, given how thoroughly she enjoyed him. She hoped she could keep him as long as possible. 

lll

Jemma popped out of the trunk, ICER blazing. It wasn't until Coulson ordered her to stand down that she realized she wasn't still in the fray of the earlier fight. 

Ward surged toward her, taking her by the shoulders and then by the face. "You okay?" he asked. 

She was still disoriented, but he helped ground her. The train wasn't moving anymore. Coulson, Ward, and May were there, but not the guy in the suit and not... "Where are Fitz and Skye?" 

"We don't know," Ward said. "But we'll find them." His hands were still on her face. She realized it was a strange level of affection for him to show in front of Coulson and May, until she remembered that they both knew. 

She glanced over Ward's shoulder to see Coulson. He had a sort of pinched expression, still worried about the two members of his team who were missing but relieved to have found the third. Any misgivings he'd had about Jemma's relationship with Ward seemed to have gone to the wayside now that he could see it was _real_. He found Ward's sweetness with her... heartwarming. Even May behind him seemed to have a softer expression than usual.  

Ward had been notorious for being unable to get along with others, and here he was proving that wrong. Coulson and May seemed willing to forgive him the indiscretion now that they knew how capable he was of caring for someone else. The two of them even made a point of taking separate SUVs from herself and Ward en route to Quinn's mansion. 

Ward drove with one hand, his other laced with Jemma's on the console. His thumb kept running over her knuckles as if to remind himself that she was there while he kept his eyes on the road. She imagined it hadn't been easy leaving her on the train and not knowing what had happened to her. He'd probably been sick with worry and struggling to contain it in front of May and Coulson.  

"So you told Coulson about us," Ward said. He was trying to distract her —and himself— from worry over Fitz and Skye. 

"Yes, on our way to the train," she answered, pretending to wince a little. "It just sort of popped out of my mouth, between pre-mission jitters and being alone with him. At least he only had so much time to voice his concerns before we had to board."

"Voice his concerns, huh? Is that all he did with you?" 

"I might be understating a bit." Coulson's face had gone blank for an amusingly long moment before he launched into his role of team leader —and team dad.  

"Good," Ward chuckled. "Because just earlier he voiced his concerns to me pretty loudly and angrily. Didn't want to think you got off too easy just because he likes you more." 

"He doesn't like me more." 

"Yes, he does. He was being all... protective. Even while he was lecturing me about protocol, there were some implied threats." 

It didn't surprise her. While Coulson hadn't said as much during their discussion, she knew he was afraid that _Jemma_  would be the one to end up hurt. 

It was funny, really. 

lll

Just hours ago on the train, Ward had grasped her hand tight, waving away her attempt to fuss over his hurt arm (he usually liked it when Jemma fussed) and ordering her out of harm's way with that worried look on his face. But now he was worried about Skye instead. Sure, the girl was in a hyperbaric chamber on the verge of death, but Jemma didn't want his concern to get out of hand. Ward had gotten used to protecting the team — and grown to like it. That could also turn into him blaming himself and obsessing over it, obsessing over _her_.

The last thing Jemma needed was for her to lose her grip on Ward because Skye's brush with death stirred up his old romantic notions. Hydra had needed to motivate Coulson and his team into pursuing project TAHITI. Therefore, it was imperative that Skye be gravely injured — and Jemma knew it. But if she didn't nip Ward's residual feelings in the bud, this could turn into quite the annoyance. Jemma would just have to make the situation about herself instead. As she learned from Coulson's kidnapping, when Ward couldn't do any saving or protecting, he liked to do the comforting. He liked to wrap his big strong arms around Jemma, as if he could shield her from any further emotional harm.

Jemma excused herself from briefing Coulson on Skye's condition, making sure to choke up just enough at the end so that no one doubted what she'd run off to do. She rummaged through the drawers of the medical supplies, worrying as the seconds dragged on that she might have miscalculated — she had been known to do that on occasion. Until she felt a hand on her arm, and knew before even turning around that it would be Ward's chest she was being folded into.  

Fitz was there a minute later (a minute too late). Ward stiffened as he heard Fitz approach, but didn't let her go until she had wrung out as many fake tears as she could. 

They arrived in Zurich to sit and wait. Coulson kept making phone calls in an attempt to reach Fury, until a nurse insisted he take them outside. (Likely more to do with the way his voice raised with each call than a cell phone policy.) Then May ducked out to _actually_  call Fury, Jemma suspected. (She'd snooped through the plane and found May's private line in the cockpit. May wasn't Hydra, so who else would she be calling?)

That left Jemma alone with Ward and Fitz. Ward, who had been sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Jemma, was immediately uncomfortable. "I'm gonna go get us all coffee," he muttered. 

Fitz's eyes followed Ward around the corner, wetting his lips before he spoke. "You and Ward then, huh?"

Jemma plucked at her sleeve in a show of embarrassment. "Yes. It's, er..." She grimaced, her eyebrows pinching together apologetically. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Fitz pushed his mouth to one side but didn't say anything. She knew it hurt him, in part because of his feelings for her (which he himself wasn't fully aware of) and part because Fitz was supposed to be her _best friend_  and yet she'd kept this secret from him.

Jemma actually felt a little bad —which was rare. Fitz was her friend, after all. He was rather too pure of heart for her taste and she'd always known she might have to betray him or even kill him one day. (She'd make sure to give him a quick death.) But if it had been strategic to pursue a relationship with Fitz, she wouldn't have minded. She did honestly like him.

Fitz sighed. "It's ... surprising... But great, really great." He forced his face into a little smile that still had a shred of sincerity to it. It helped that by this point Ward was Fitz's friend and quasi-brother in their little family. It also helped that of all the times for Jemma to let him find out, it was while Skye was circling the drain. Fitz could be childish and overly-critical, but he was Jemma's friend above all else and knew when to be supportive. (He'd tease her about their old _Agent Grant Ward_  impressions another time.)

Ward came back, hesitating at the door a little to make sure he wasn't interrupting anything. No one said anything as he distributed the coffees, setting May's and Coulson's in front of their empty seats before handing Fitz's over to him. 

"Cheers, mate," Fitz murmured. 

Ward's mouth relaxed a little and nodded back, seemingly relieved that he'd passed some kind of test. 

Hours more passed of waiting. It was amusing, that while everyone around her hoped the doctors could fix Skye, Jemma hoped that they couldn't. The doctor finally came, to deliver the news — news that only Jemma was secretly happy to hear. 

When Coulson plopped the Level 10 Clearance file in front of her and Fitz, she had to keep from snatching at it. Although she was pretty sure she let slip a smile. 

Jemma didn't understand everything in Coulson's Death and Recovery Report, but she sort of liked it that way. So many things came so easily for her, she enjoyed having a challenge. She even looked back fondly on finding an antiserum to the Chitauri virus, though she would prefer not to do _that_  again. It was better when it was someone else's life in the balance. 

What was a less thrilling development was John Garrett's plane landing on the Bus. 

Jemma knew Garrett from Hydra, having first met him when she ten years old and many times since then. He was a talented agent and a good resource to Hydra. Once he'd even given her practical tips for working with explosives. But that didn't mean she liked him. Thankfully she didn't have to talk to him until after the Bus left the rubble of the Guest House, when Garrett caught her on her own outside of Skye's medical pod. 

"Hey, kid." She hated when he called her that. She was already in a bad mood before this conversation. "Didn't get much of a chance to talk to you. Thought I'd touch base before we left."

" _We_? Is Agent Triplett one of yours?" 

"Why, you interested?" he teased. 

Jemma rolled her eyes. Not because she found Trip unappealing, but because it was _Garrett_  asking. 

"Come to think of it, what's up with you and that Ward guy?" he said. "He your cover-boyfriend, your puppet, or your, uh... _pet project_?" 

"All three, I suppose," she said, folding her arms. 

"Well, you should be careful with him. Agent Hand was his SO before she started climbing the promotion ladder — and that says something. I heard he's one of the best."

"So am I," she countered coolly. "Besides, he has a soft spot." 

"What's that?"

"Me." 

Garrett smirked back at her. "I'll try to keep him alive for you, if you want. So long as he doesn't get too in the way."

Jemma nodded her appreciation. "Now are you going to answer my question? I'd like to know who I can trust." 

"Trip's grandaddy was a Howling Commando," Garrett sighed. "He worships at the feet of Peggy Carter." 

Jemma smiled. "To be fair, she was a remarkable woman. She would have certainly made a formidable enemy." 

"Yeah, and she was a fine-looking gal in her day, too," Garrett said, to which Jemma glared at him contemptuously. "What's the problem, Jem?"

She drummed her fingers against her bicep. Besides her usual distaste for him? "You let the Guest House blow." 

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, sweetheart. I'm as disappointed as you about that damn kill-switch. But don't worry, I managed to grab as many drugs as I could." He patted his jacket. 

A few pocketfuls of vials wasn't much to go on. She wanted _all_  of the research, all their notes, to see how they'd set up their labs and experiments, and whatever the drugs had been made or taken from. Even the guards might've been of some small use to her, but they'd killed them, too, in a spectacular show of SHIELD hypocrisy. Jemma liked a challenge, but losing all the resources from the Guest House was just wasteful. What Garrett had grabbed was a trifle in comparison. But it was better than nothing. Jemma held out her hand. 

"I'm not giving them to you," Garrett chuckled. 

"Why not?"

"Because they're staying with me."

"You expect me to give up my objective here, then, and go with you?" 

Garrett smiled. "Much as Trip might like that, you're staying here. I need you to keep an eye on Coulson and Skye, keep running tests. I wanna know what that GH-325 _does_." He tilted his head to one side in consideration. "And it's good to keep someone on Coulson's team." 

"I don't take orders from you." 

"Technically, sweetheart, you do" 

Jemma arched her eyebrow. 

His grin grew wide and wicked. "I'm the Clairvoyant." 

Jemma did _not_  like that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> frag = "to kill, wound, or assault (especially an unpopular or overzealous superior) with a fragmentation grenade." ; "a macabre ritual of Vietnam in which American enlisted men attempt to murder their superiors. The word comes from the nickname for hand grenades, a weapon popular with enlisted men because the evidence is destroyed with the consummation of the crime."


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes Men — End of the Beginning — Turn, Turn, Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on this chapter. This one was a pain in my ass, largely due to having to deal with actual *plot* and trying to bend the show's plot to suit my needs (or shoehorn my fic into the show's general plot). Dumb plot. 
> 
> And a teeny additional warning for addressing Ward's lack of consent under Lorelei's spell (and me trying to not be too dismissive about it). And of course evil!Jemma's continued manipulations, made a little extra uncomfortable under that light.

Lorelei was another unexpected twist of fate to play —even more unexpectedly— to her favor. 

It had greatly worried Jemma. She could even say she had been... _jealous_. Ward was _hers_  to control. And the Asgardian enchantress had undone all of Jemma's hard work with a wave of her proverbial magic wand. (Jemma might have been more forgiving if Lorelei had used science instead of sorcery. At least with the Berserker staff she had figured out a logical reason behind its effects. Lorelei's power was unexplainable.) Ward's bewitchment could have thrown a serious wrench in her plans. 

But it didn't.  

"I am so... unbelievably sorry," he said when he found Jemma later. 

"You don't need to apologize," she answered breathily. She couldn't act like she could just sweep the situation under the rug. It was hard for a relationship to come back from that sort of thing. (Or she would imagine it would be, if seduction by a magic spell was a more prevalent relationship problem.) Jemma had to act a little hurt by it. She _was_  a little hurt by it. Even if she knew it wasn't his fault. "You're the one we should be concerned about, after what she did to you." 

"You don't have to be," Ward assured her, like it really was nothing. The guarded way he had crossed his arms over his chest suggested otherwise. 

Jemma knew he wasn't as impervious as he let on and that the whole thing made him feel a little sick. (The way he might just feel —if not worse— were he to know the truth about Jemma before she could make him understand.) Ward was used to having sex with people regardless of his own desires, but he had always been in control of his own body. And he had never done that while in a serious relationship with someone else. Sleeping with Lorelei might have bothered him less if he didn't have to keep thinking about who he _should_  have been with instead and how she had violated his very emotions. It also reminded him that one day, SHIELD may require him to go back to having physical relations with other people for missions — a possibility that irked him now when it never had before. Jemma could see how his skin itched at the thought of Lorelei or anyone else touching him. Jemma might have to be mindful about her own physical contact with him for little awhile. But it would give her the chance to be the understanding, emotionally nurturing girlfriend some more, which he always lapped right up. And if Ward wanted to pretend like everything was situation normal, to try to shove it down and forget about it just as he did with everything else in his life, she would let him do that, too.

Jemma put a hesitant, soothing hand on top of his folded arms. She kept her face a little strained, but her tone light in an attempt at gentle, unsure levity. "Maybe we just need to steer clear of all Asgardians and Asgardian artifacts in the future, hmm?" 

Ward melted a little at her touch. He opened his arms to take her hand in both of his and smiled a little. "Last time," he said with a sigh, "it turned out okay in the end." 

"Yes." Jemma couldn't help her own smile as she looked at his shoes. "I suppose it did."

Ward took a step forward. "And... Lorelei did let slip that one thing." 

Jemma flushed at his reminder of Lorelei's mocking words to her. They had truly angered her, even with the gratification of her success being confirmed. "It didn't sound as nice coming from her." 

"I didn't mean for you to find out like that," he said with a grimace. 

She squeezed his hand, drawing him away from the memory of Lorelei and back to her. "How _did_ you mean for me to find out?" 

"I... hadn't figured that out yet." His eyebrows pinched upward as he struggled with his insecurity. "It's not the sort of thing I've said before... and meant it," he added uncomfortably, so that she knew he was talking about seducing marks. (Rather ironic, Jemma thought, all things considered.) 

"Then just say it now," she implored softly. 

He shifted his weight and swallowed. Then Grant placed one hand on her face and took a deep breath, like he was trying to really get this right. "I love you, Jemma." 

Warmth bloomed inside her chest. She was fairly certain it was the thrill of triumph. 

lll

Jemma was packing an overnight bag in her room when she heard the door slide closed. A large, warm body loomed behind her, hands sliding around her middle.

"You got a few minutes?" Ward mumbled against her ear.

Jemma continued packing, trying to ignore Ward as he pressed slow kisses down her throat and untucked her shirt. His hands were hot and persistent as they dragged up her ribcage and dipped into the waist of her jeans. "We'll have to be fast," she whined.

"I know." He turned her head to kiss her, a little awkwardly from this angle.

"I wish I didn't have to stay here. Even if I understand why they need me to." 

"You'll be safer at the Hub. With everything going on right now, with the Clairvoyant..." He had that concerned look on his face he'd been wearing more and more. She knew Ward didn't like all the _science-fiction stuff_  they'd been encountering that year: Asgardians messing with his head, a Chitauri virus almost killing her... And now there was this Clairvoyant who could supposedly see everything and know their every move. 

Jemma stroked her fingers over his hand. She wanted to ease his worries, to tell him that he didn't have to fret about the Clairvoyant hurting her. Soon she'd be able to show him that the two of them would be safer with Hydra — and that she was more capable of taking care of herself than he knew . "You don't have to lock me up safe-and-sound. I _am_  a SHIELD agent."

"I know, I know, but..." Grant kissed her again to illustrate his point. He couldn't bear to see any harm come to her — which was exactly what Jemma wanted from him. 

Ironically, the Hub, a place crawling with highly-trained SHIELD agents wasn't exactly the safest place for her. At least she could take comfort in the fact that it was also crawling with highly-trained Hydra agents.

Ward tugged off both their shirts and pulled her up onto her toes, grinding his erection against her. Jemma bit down on her moan. She reached back to clutch his arse and a low sound from deep in his throat rumbled against her hair. They each scrabbled to undo their trousers as Jemma put one knee on the bed and braced her arm against the wall.  

He fucked her fast and quiet — they nearly always had to be quiet and Jemma hated that. Especially when he fucked her at this angle. At least it made her come in little time at all, even if she didn't get to moan and scream the way she wanted. 

Ward dropped onto the bed next to her and kissed her properly once it was over. Jemma gripped his jaw, kissing him back deeply. She curled fists into his hair, pulling him closer, wanting to climb onto his lap and —

But she had to go soon and still needed to pack some things from the lab, talk to Fitz about testing Skye's blood, lead him into the idea of setting up an encrypted hard line so he would discover May's own suspicious-looking one...

She drew back and settled to press her forehead against his in a display of affection. "I love you," she whispered. 

Grant stared back at her, the heat from his eyes gone but not the intensity. "I love you, too." His thumbs traced over her cheekbones, as if basking in how fortunate he was to have found her — and drowning in the fear of losing her. 

He carried his concern with him when he bid farewell to her on the cargo bay. They barely spoke in front of all the agents present for the final briefing, but at the end he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She caught the pointed look Ward gave Hand over her shoulder. Jemma knew that Hand would make apparent her disapproval, but ultimately turn a blind eye. Supervising officers had a history of letting things slide for their former trainees — even hard-asses like Hand. 

Jemma also saw Garrett smirk's. She should have realized right then what Garrett was planning in the coming hours. She only figured it out moments before it happened, once Thomas Nash's computer started spouting off personalized threats to Coulson.

"It is the inevitable. A force beyond your comprehension is coming for you — you and Skye. She has something we want. And she will die giving it to us, along with everyone in our way. Agents Garrett, May and Ward, here... Fitz in the van with Skye... Hand at the Hub with Triplett... and Simmons." 

Jemma saw Ward's posture stiffen. Nash did, too. His eyes darted over to Ward as he tightened the grip on his gun, though no one but Jemma and Garrett would know it was only out of Nash's fear for his life. Garrett couldn't have orchestrated that more perfectly if he'd wanted to. 

"They will _all_  die," the computerized voice continued. "I have seen it."

Coulson leaned in closer. "Go to hell."

"No matter where I go or what you do to me, I will always —"

Jemma gasped. She knew it had been coming, that Garrett had instructed his lackey controlling the computer to bait Ward or Coulson into shooting Nash — and if all else failed Garrett might have done it himself. But she still couldn't believe it. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth as the smile threatened to break out on her face. She was _proud_. 

Ward had shot an unarmed man, against orders, in cold blood. 

Ward had _murdered_  someone. 

Ward had murdered someone _for her_. 

But dammit if it didn't create a problem. If Ward managed to walk away from it with a slap on the wrist, it could all turn out okay. Otherwise Jemma would have to either figure out how to have Hydra extract him and then promptly turn him, or completely abandon her little project. That would certainly be a pity. Jemma had put in so much work... and grown rather fond of him, too.  

"Bet the Clairvoyant didn't see that coming," Hand said. Her lack of concern that Ward had shot Nash seemed promising, at least. 

Unfortunately Jemma was ushered out of the room before she could further gauge the situation, so she reverted to her earlier objectives. She found an empty lab with the proper equipment to run further analyses on Skye's blood. While those processed, she made her call to Fitz. It kept breaking up, just as she had intended so he would discover May's hard line tap. But Jemma found herself wishing that particular little scheme could be put off until she could get some more answers out of him about Ward. Then the call dropped and picked up another signal. A scrambled signal.  

_Out of the shadows. Into the light._

Oh, bloody fantastic. 

lll

Jemma had spent much of the past few hours thinking it was the end for her —for her SHIELD cover at least, if not her freedom or even her life— and it might still be. She had to figure a way out, come up with a new plan. Similar to her cover, Jemma had always worked best in these sorts of high-pressure situations with lots of preparation and less well on the fly. She didn't have a contingency plan for _this_. 

She found herself banking on Ward. To her great relief, he'd fought his way to her once before — shortly after Agent Hand had tried to test her and Trip's loyalty (luckily Jemma  _knew_  Hand wasn't Hydra) and convince her that Coulson (of all people) must have succeeded in turning Ward. He hadn't let her out of his sight since. Maybe if Jemma's true affiliation was revealed, Ward could fight their way back out of the Hub, him unable to believe that Jemma was Hydra... or maybe after she tearfully confessed the truth (the half-truth) to him — told him that Hyrda had recruited her as a child, had controlled her whole life, that she was _scared_  and she needed him to protect her from both agencies. She'd rather avoid further vilifying them to Ward, if she had any hopes of keeping him by her side once this was all over. But unfortunately it wasn't the right time for her to convince him to throw his lot in with Hydra. 

Hopefully none of that would be necessary. No one had come for Jemma yet, though she couldn't be certain  _why_ , when SHIELD had a comprehensive list of Hydra agents. There was one person who might know the reason, but —

"Hey," Ward said, clearly able to see that Jemma was a million miles away while she finished patching him up in the Hub's crowded infirmary. He took her hand. "Everything's okay now."

"Everything is _not_  okay," she said pointedly. 

"No," he admitted. "But... we won the battle. For now, we're okay. Everything always turns out okay." He pulled her into a hug with barely a second thought to the infirmary full of SHIELD agents. It wasn't even the first time he'd done it that day. No one seemed to care or even notice. Protocol had gone out the window when half the chain-of-command had been killed or outed as Hydra. 

Jemma rested her head against his chest and breathed, glad for the calming effect Grant provided her. He was right about everything always turning out okay even if he didn't know it was true for her and Hydra's agenda, too. She'd managed this long and she'd work her way through this setback, too. At least she still had Ward. With SHIELD gutted and Hydra crippled, as well, she might even work this all in her favor if she played it right.  

She sighed, reluctantly stepping away from him. "You should to get back to Coulson and see what they need."

"What about you?" 

"I'll stay here and help out," she said. 

His eyes followed hers to all the injured agents around them and nodded stiffly. He wasn't keen to leave her after everything that had happened. But he wasn't going to fight her on it. They were SHIELD agents and they went where they were needed. 

Grant kissed her on the forehead, before reconsidering and kissing her on the mouth, too, lingering just long enough to run his thumb over her cheek. Something both loving and lascivious passed over his face, a something that made Jemma look forward to the next time she had him alone. "I'll leave you to it, Doctor," he said. .  

Now that Ward was gone, she might get some answers. 

The Hub was still in chaos. Jemma had considered trying to slip away, with or without Ward, but the loyal SHIELD agents were still on alert. They would notice anyone making an escape. But they were less vigilant of Jemma letting the Infirmary Coordinator shuffle her through the guarded entry of the side room full of wounded Hydra agents. The traitorous agents needed to stay alive for questioning, if for no other reason. But the professional pledges and personals morals of the SHIELD medical staff were being tested that day and few seemed all that willing to help. 

"Dr. Simmons! I was just coming to look for you," a voice said behind her. She turned to find one of the agents she had briefed about the Deathlok project. Lovely, she didn't even have to finagle her way in; she was about to be invited. "I have Agent— I have John Garrett in one of the secured rooms. He's... well it look like he has similar cybernetic technology to Mike Peterson. I could really use your help." 

Jemma blinked her eyes in an act of surprise. "Certainly, Doctor." 

As if on cue, one of the unconscious Hydra agents began to code. Jemma had injected him with the wrong drug not five minutes ago to draw out whoever had been working on Garrett. (The coding agent in question she had met once in a Hydra facility and she couldn't risk being recognized if he woke up. Two birds, one injection.)

"I'll handle this," the doctor said. "You go take a look at Garrett." 

There were two more guards posted at the door, who nodded her through after witnessing the exchange. Thankfully there wasn't a guard in the room, since agents were already stretched thin as it was and apparently no one considered that it might be a bad idea to leave her alone with him. They must have missed the lesson of the day: Hydra hides in plain sight. 

Garrett was strapped to the bed and stripped down to his boxers to reveal all the chrome biomechanics he sported. "Oh, it's you," he growled dismissively "Coulson's little lab rat." 

Jemma pulled a little black electronic from her labcoat pocket to show him out of view of the room's camera. "I interfered with the audio before I came in so it'll seem like a glitch. They won't be able to make out what we're saying, but they can still see us." Thanks to Fitz, as a little going away present for their secret calls while she was in the Hub.

Garrett smiled mirthlessly, but that would hardly seem out-of-character for anyone watching. "Wouldn't want to deprive SHIELD one minute of my little peepshow." 

She was glad that the camera was pointing towards the hospital bed and couldn't see any of her own expressions. It would be one less thing to worry about. 

"Managed to hide all this tech from SHIELD under a turtleneck for thirty years. Then one little scuffle with Coulson makes my mechanics go a bit wonky and suddenly it's not so secret anymore." He guffawed. "That guy has all the luck."

"I know. He seems to impart it upon his whole team. Including me." Jemma flashed him a little smile as she surveyed him. She was fairly familiar with his enhancements considering that he was the first Deathlok test subject. But it had been years since she'd properly examined him in person. 

He kept his mouth just tight enough to make lip-reading difficult. "I'd say so, from the whole 'lack-of-restraints' look you're rocking."

Jemma kept her attention on the tech instead of him. She couldn't appear to the camera as if she was too engaged with Garrett, even if he was the type to take pleasure in goading her. "Yes, about that... Do you know why I haven't been arrested yet?"

Garrett screwed up his mouth in thought for a moment. "Well you were never technically recruited; Hydra brought you in as an asset. We always thought of you as more our property than an agent," Then the ugly grin came back. "Guess you never made it onto the personnel list. Funny how things turn out."

"More property than agent?" Jemma muttered bitterly, unable to let the insult go no matter how fortuitous.  

"Hey girlie, you were nothing but a whizkid — didn't even have your first training bra. And when you did grow up, you were a prized resource for that pretty brain of yours. Not a typical sort of agent. Call it a clerical error if it makes you feel better. Consider yourself lucky." He tugged on the leather restraints strapping him down. "Now are you planning on getting me out of here, or what?" 

"I can't right now. I shouldn't have to tell you that. There's no possible way — not even with Grant's help—"

" _Grant_? — You managed to get Grant Ward to come into the fold already?" 

Jemma turned her attention to the biomechanics of his prosthetic legs. She hoped the farther distance would make her facial cues harder to pick up. "Yes. Sometime after the Guest House. Everything was coming to a head —and he's as in love with me as ever— it seemed like the best time." She shrugged, bending closer to survey his newest upgrades. "And if I'd been wrong, we'd gotten most of what we wanted out of Coulson, so I would've cut my losses and run."

"Jeez, kid. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I wanted to wait until I was certain. Now I am." She sounded a little distracted as she moved back up to pop open the diagnostics panel. 

Garrett was genuinely impressed, if not rather surprised. "He just didn't seem like the type to come easily. Like he was a bit too much a chip off the 'ol Hand. All ... _agent-y_." 

Jemma began to babble as she worked, a habit that was truly hers since childhood and not just her cover's. Garrett knew that. "Before me, Grant only ever cared about one person: himself. Hand always kept him at arm's length so he never had a real attachment to her. He's as cold and calculating and hungry for advancement as her; he just doesn't particularly care through what agency he rises. I simply had to show him which was the winning team — an easy persuasion given his feelings for me. Grant's loyal to me, and once he shot Nash I knew he was loyal to Hydra. He realized it was what the real Clairvoyant wanted him to do. Grant was eager to prove himself —to be owed a favor— and knew that the Hydra infiltrators in SHIELD could get him out of it."

Garrett scoffed. "Well those Hydra infiltrators aren't doing _me_  any good right now. As happy as I am for you two — that you've both escaped blame by various strokes of luck and can now continue living free and happily ever after together —  _I'm still up shit creek_. God knows what SHIELD's got planned for me."

Jemma could just do it right now. It would be so very easy. Garrett had no way of stopping her and SHIELD would chalk it up to a malfunction. But there were still some things she needed. 

"That I can tell you," she said. "You're being transferred to the Fridge. Hand is taking refuge there and you're going along with her on the Jump Jet."

Jemma could practically see the light bulb go off. Then he smiled, this one finally genuine. "I think I got myself an idea." 

She brought her eyes up to his face, so he knew he had her attention.  

"I'll need you to make a call for me. There's a designated line in my Jump Jet under the left armrest of the pilot seat. Tell them to track the progress on the locator chip I got squirreled away under all this metal. The best bet for a rescue is once we've deplaned. If we're lucky — and they time it just right, when Hand's got the door open — we'll even get to raid the Fridge." The wheels were still turning in his head as he went back over the plan, leaving Jemma in suspense. "And you know what... get your guy Ward on the plane. I could use the back-up."

"But he has no reason to be." She struggled to keep from smiling that the Great Deceiver, John Garrett, was taking her bait. 

Fortunately he was too excited by his own idea to notice any evidence of her duplicity. "He's Hand's protégé. It won't be too suspicious." 

"That doesn't matter. Everyone knows now how in love with me he is. He won't leave my side with everything going on, he's too protective ... Unless..." Jemma trailed away, as if a thought was just occurring to her.

Garrett was a little too eager to provide the necessary contribution for their plan —  _her_  plan. Soon that wouldn't matter. She excused herself from the infirmary, her cheek aching, but not outdone by the satisfaction of her accomplishment .  

Getting back onto the Bus wasn't a problem now that Coulson's team had been cleared of suspicion. Fitz and Skye were already there, puttering around half-heartedly and surveying the damage to their plane. Garrett's Jump Jet was still perched on top, unguarded, as SHIELD was too busy securing the Hydra threat to begin an investigation into Garrett and his plane. Jemma just had to slip up to where it was docked. She found the communicator, typed in the code, and gave the clearance phrase all as Garret had told her. Then she gave them Garrett's supposed instructions. 

"...And make absolute sure that Agent Ward escapes. Hydra will need him later."

Jemma slunk back into the lounge, letting herself come into Skye's periphery vision. 

"Hey, Simmons," she said. Skye was toeing the broken glass about the carpet with her boot in a melancholy, even child-like way. Jemma knew Skye's emotional ties to the team and the Bus were stronger than everyone's, even Coulson's. Seeing her home trashed and family in disarray was especially disheartening for her. Skye paused in her little zen garden reenactment and stared, before to dragging her attention away. "I was beginning to wonder if you and Ward had snuck off to — Oh my god, what happened to your face?"

Jemma grimaced. "It's... nothing." She gave a little wave of her hand and a nervous laugh. "With all the excitement I tripped and fell." 

"Come on, Simmons. I saw kids coming back to the orphanage from their foster care looking like that and with better excuses than yours." 

"There was a little... kerfuffle in the infirmary while I was providing my services as a medic," she said, her voice quavering. "But the threat was detained. I'm _fi_ —" Jemma made sure to let the word catch. 

Skye's face crumpled and she directed the two of them to sit as Jemma began to shake. "Simmons... hey, it's okay." 

"It was Garrett," Jemma blurted out. "He got a hand free from his restraints while I was over him." 

"And he hit you?" 

"That's not the worst of it, Skye." Jemma felt the tears she'd been working on finally pool up in her eyes. She made the words spill out of her mouth in little bursts, as if she was trying to stop but unable to. "He was shouting and making threats, saying it was just a matter of time before Hydra got him free again. And then he was going to come after Coulson and our team and make us suffer, that he'd —" Jemma shuddered, "make me watch Grant die slowly and horribly and then torture me into submission so that I'd work for him." 

Skye swallowed and wrapped her arms around Jemma. "That's not gonna happen." 

Jemma squeezed her back, letting her hand rest over where Skye had been shot in the abdomen. She hoped it would further sow the seed of doubt and fear into Skye's head, thinking about how close she had come to dying and how easily Hydra could do the same to one of her friends. 

They stayed that way for awhile, until Ward and May walked in. Ward saw the angry red mark taking over Jemma's left cheek and froze. His face ticked, as he fought down his various reactions, but his voice was soft when he crouched down to take Jemma's hand. "What happened?" 

She hesitated, but Skye told him for her. Jemma tried to protest, to say that it wasn't a big deal, but it didn't stop Skye.    

His eyes kept running over Jemma's face, concerned and tender but showing nothing more. "Do Coulson and Hand know about this?" 

Jemma didn't answer him. 

Ward shook his head and stood. "Then I'll go tell them." He strode out, his long legs carrying him half-way out the Bus before Jemma could extract herself from Skye's hold. She purposely trailed behind him all the way to the operations room, so that she would seemingly fail in stopping him from approaching Hand and Coulson. She hovered by the door to watch. 

"I'd like to offer my services in that," Ward said, interrupting their conversation about locking Garrett up in the Fridge. "If you don't mind, sir." 

"I can always use a man of your skills, and I don't mind the company... Might even be just like old times," Hand said, with an edge of dry humor. No doubt old times with her had been rather by-the-book and not particularly nostalgic — unlike the wild stories Garrett was so fond of telling. "Besides, you owe me for all those agents of mine you incapacitated." Her eyes flitted just briefly to Jemma behind him. 

After Ward had taken down a dozen men and helped Skye set up the explosives, he had rushed through the Hub, not letting anyone stop him until he found Jemma, safe in the operations room with Hand. Ward had pulled her tightly into his arms (after a brief standoff to confirm everyone's loyalties) and that time, Jemma had been able to see Hand and gauge her reaction. Jemma knew her show of bravery and supposed loyalty to SHIELD during Hand's test had impressed her. Hand even respected her unwavering insistence that Ward and the rest of Coulson's team weren't Hydra, even if she thought it was foolish at the time.

"Can I ask why the sudden interest, Ward?" Hand asked. 

"Garrett is dangerous, ma'am. So is Hydra. And I won't feel better until we've made sure he's locked up safe-and-sound in the Fridge, where no one can ever reach him."

Hand said nothing, but inclined her head a fraction. Ward seemed to know from experience that she expected him to continue. 

"Just earlier in the infirmary, he threw off a restraint and injured an agent. God knows what could have happened if he'd had just a bit more luck... What could still happen if he _escaped_." 

"That was an incident barely worth mentioning," Jemma said, finally coming into the room to intercede. "Agent Ward is just being overly cautious." 

Everyone turned to look at her. Coulson raised his eyebrow at her, with a glance down to her cheek. He and Hand knew exactly which agent Garrett had injured. "Perhaps it would be good for Hand to get the extra help with Garrett," Coulson said. "Better safe than sorry." 

Jemma gaped at them. "So you're all in agreement about this now. Even when you were all at each other's throats just hours ago, thinking the other was Hydra — even when Hand was going to blow the Bus out of the the sky!" 

"Agent Hand makes the tough calls. But she does them for the better of the whole," Ward defended. Subconsciously, it was strengthening the loyalty between himself and Hand, after their recent bumps in the road. 

"Like when she left you and Fitz for dead in South Ossetia?"

"I left them to fend for themselves," Hand interjected. "I knew Ward would get himself and Agent Fitz out. I trained him; I've put him in these types of scenarios before. So I trust his abilities. He's one of the best."

Ward bowed his head, unused to her blatant praise and pleased to hear it. 

"I will apologize for being so convinced you were Hydra," Hand continued, with a twinge of guilt in her eyes as she addressed her protégé. "And Coulson's stooge." 

He guffawed at that, some semblance of an old camaraderie between them returning. Now when either he or Hand would get the idea to shoot Garrett en transit, the other would surely agree to it. "Likewise."

"Agent Simmons never doubted your loyalty for a second," Hand continued. "She's a good judge of character."

Ward's eyes shined. He was proud of her, to have won Hand's good opinion so readily, and glad to get his SO's approval. Jemma had told Garett the truth about Ward and Hand not being close; it didn't mean their relationship didn't mean anything to them. 

But Jemma's persona would still be miffed at Hand. "I doubted _your_  loyalty," Jemma said, a little too icily for addressing a superior officer.  

"Good," Hand smiled just a bit. "It's how I taught Ward. Don't trust any person, any situation, or any _thing_  too easily." Jemma's skin pricked nervously for just a moment, but not even someone as experienced  and jaded as Hand thought to suspect her. "SHIELD wouldn't be in this situation if we were all a bit better at that, myself included." She turned back to Coulson. 

Ward, picking up on the dismissal, led Jemma back to the doorway. Looking at her expression now, he sighed. "If you don't want me to go, I won't go." 

Jemma shook her head. "No," she said resolutely. "You should go." 

He placed his hands on her shoulders and peered down at her. "You'll be alright without me?" 

"Yes," she insisted. "You do what you have to. Garrett..." She shivered and didn't finish.   

Grant gingerly tilted her chin up with one knuckle and eyed her cheek. "You should put some ice on that," he whispered. 

"Yes, doctor," Jemma teased, breaking into a smile. 

Then she went up on her toes to kiss him, long and sweet and uncaring of who could see them. Ward's grip on her tightened instinctively. Yet there was something else in it, in the set of his jaw and the tightness in his body. Jemma knew from past experience what it was. His blood was still running hot with adrenaline, this time with the added stress of discovering the agency-wide infiltration of Hydra, fighting in an outnumbered melee, and the dread over what had happened to Jemma. The adrenaline still hadn't fully dissipated and they had barely had a moment alone together. 

But Jemma also knew it would be better for him to retain that adrenaline high for a while longer, even if they could find the time and place for them both to relieve it before he left. 

She broke the kiss to wrap her arms around his shoulders and he hugged her closer against him, squeezing tight. She'd grown to feel safe in Grant's arms, today more than ever, and she was uneasy about letting him go and losing his protection. Jemma knew it was a gamble. It could all go very, very wrong for her. 

Or it could go very right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Agent Hand Ward's SO late in the development of this fic. I could have/should have added that info earlier had I known at the time. But that's what happens, I guess, when you post as you write. I only just added in a few lines of dialogue about Hand in the last chapter during TAHITI, when I was plotting out Turn, Turn, Turn and trying to figure out how to get Ward on the damn plane to the Fridge. I might not have needed to make her his SO to accomplish that, but then I started to really like the idea. Hand and Ward (in this AU/his S1 cover) are a little similar in their emotional detachment (superficially anyway) and no-nonsense demeanor. I liked their relationship and their mutual chillness about not always trusting each other and all the other trappings of being an agent. And I also realized... I just plain like Hand. Sure she left our boys in South Ossetia and I'm not saying she's a perfect person... but she was a make-the-tough-calls and get-the-job-done-at-all-costs sort of person and I respect that.
> 
> Edited after episode 4x19 to say: Did one of the show writers read my fic? Lol. Well I had Alternate-reality-Non-evil-Ward with his SO being Agent Hand before it was cool. And then I kind of lost my shit when it became... well canon, I guess.


End file.
